


Un-Comfortably Numb

by Webtrinsic



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stephen Strange, BAMF Tony Stark, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Hurt Peter Parker, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Stephen Strange, Protective Tony Stark, Recovery, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Triggers, Underage Drug Use, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: This is to all you who wanted some Doctor Strange and Peter interactions. With some fatherly Tony too.When Peter is kidnapped and pumped full of drugs, no one would have ever thought he'd take home the drug they'd stuffed him with.  And begin using it on his own. Luckily the sorcerer supreme caught on quick and knew how to help.





	Un-Comfortably Numb

**Author's Note:**

> for you Renegade hero (Scarletarrow)

A symphony of soft cries fell from his parted lips. Blood dripping from his split skin which seared to life with every flick of his tongue.

Soft pants huffed against the broken lips. Ragged breaths pulled themselves from his abused throat. Rubbed raw and painted in three shades, a mosaic of blue and green with purple lining every edge.

His mask had been long forgotten, stolen and whisked away. Karen's voice fading out as they took into the next room and down the hall. He assumed from the echoes of her static and then the inquiries from a very familiar voice. The same voice that'd urged him from the rubble even if it hadn't been intentional.

It didn't take long for the man's voice to disappear. They didn't care about money or the possible benefits of having the one and only Spider-Man. They wanted him for one reason. He'd caught one of their own, and that man hadn't survived prison.

He didn't look into such things, never wanting to know what had happened to those he'd caught. After the Vulture, and how sad Liz had been. He'd learned that even if he'd done the right thing, he couldn't help but regret that too.

He'd have said he was sorry but they weren't listening, he wished they'd take the blindfold off. They'd already kidnapped him, they didn't have to keep him in the dark too.

His body shifted, realizing how cold the bands around his limbs were. Making him wonder why his wrist was facing up. The suit warmed, Tony must still be in charge. Offering the only comfort he could now that he couldn't be with him.

It brought a smile to his bruised lips, but it didn't burn out the flame of anxiety burning in his lungs.

"Is anyone there?" He whispered in the supposed dark. The sound not reflecting off any surfaces, meaning it was only him now, he was alone.

It may have been hours or minutes later when the set of footsteps returned, no warning for the teen when with a slash. A scalpel cut through his left wrist, tilted and firm.

Sloppy in the fact they'd been holding the blade in a balled fist. Deep enough to draw blood, and enough to make it spurt at the action and splash his face with a soft spray.

An inhale and ragged cry escaping his lips. Yanking tears from his eyes, and the grinding of his teeth pulling more blood from the open cut on his lip.

Peter almost laughed when the spray got in his mouth. It wouldn't matter since his lip had already left an awkward tang in its place.

An even then that little slice of humor wasn't enough. Not when he could hear the footsteps in the room around him, moving things, grasping stuff. The objects scraping on the wood table placed outside the door.

Light scrapes traced along the desk, dragging off the table as the footsteps reached back to him. The man's hand reached with a swoop past his ear, before the finger's twined into his hair, pulling his head back. Leaving the long collum of his throat exposed and open.

And then it breached his lips, causing him to choke. The tube breached his throat and slipped in further. Peter screamed, his throat constricting. Air rushing through the tube because he couldn't breathe through his nose. Too out of it to even try.

He's trembling, quaking, the metal around his limbs shaking too. And little does he know Tony's watching his vitals, and his heart is beating thunderously too.

The tube continued on until he could feel it in his stomach, and death would have been better. It would have been over by now. But the worst wasn't over yet. There were another set of footsteps coming in, and his jaw ached as he struggled.

A stream of water fell into the tube, startling the young hero. Squirming as he felt the water rise in his stomach.

"You'll need to stay hydrated for this," Someone warned. Another breeze met his bleeding wrist, before something poked beneath the severed skin. Slowing inching forward until the needle pressed against the underside of the skin. A concoction of Ketamine and steroids. Pumped into the underside of the vein it had so miraculously punctured.

And then they were gone, leaving the needle embedded in his skin, likely attached to an IV. Minutes later the drug took hold, head tipping back. Muscles going lax, and suddenly he can't move and he wants to scream. The tube preventing any other sound than muffled garbles, and chuffed gasp.

Specks of light fluttered beneath his closed lids. Consisting of dark hues and the color of blood and death itself. An almost sinful heliotrope, and bruised charcoal.

Horrid whispers scraping against the inside of his skull, and as far as he could tell no words were being said. But nonetheless chills flittered across his spine. Tingles littering his arms as they pressed against the hairs the stood up amongst his goosebumps.

The scrapes of whispers turned to scratches until it was tearing. Suddenly it was all out pounding. And yet his limbs couldn't move. Not even to brace his aching head and to cover his ears. To help remove the damn needle and tube clotted with blood in his arm, and the tube down his throat.

Sweat pooled at his temples, running almost as quickly as his tears. Unable to even twitch in his confinement. He'd met the loss of control before, many times in his life. And now that they were being reacquainted once again, a little part of him could only wonder. Would he be ready when they met again?

\---

He didn't remember when Tony broke down the door. The drone in his suit having had taken an aerial view of where they'd taken him. Or choking as they removed the tube from his throat. And trembling when the IV slowly slid out. What he did remember was finally being able to see, and finally, the freeing strength in limbs return. He reached out, unsure of why he took the filled syringes and hid them under his arm.

Hiding them the whole way back to the compound, stuffing them under his pillow as the doctor cleared. Tony pacing angrily at the realization they drugged his protege. And god he wouldn't be able to shake the image of Peter gagging horribly while barely able to move.

He'd given them a bad enough punishment for removing the boy's mask, but they could expect worse now.

"How are feeling kiddo?" He asked softly, noticing the boy watching him.

"I...I really don't know," Peter answered honestly. Quirking a brow at how hoarse he sounded, "Do you think I could have some water?"

Even Tony cringed at his voice, eyes roaming over his throat before rushing to get him some water. Holding the cup until he was absolutely sure Peter wouldn't drop the cup, and then some.

"Thank you," he whispered, grateful to actually feel the water run down the sides of his throat. And not just fall into his stomach.

"You're aunt's taking a nap, she hasn't slept since...you know."

"Oh, is she doing okay?" He asked.

"She's scared," Tony admitted, sitting in the bedside chair. His leg began bouncing in a soft symphony against the floor.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, trying to drown out the oncoming feeling of drowning.

The look Tony supplied was enough to let him know. That he wasn't and he wanted to know why exactly he of all people was asking.

Avoiding the man's eye. Peter explained, "I...overtime I just sorta thought you and me...I really didn't want you to see me that way."

A huff of air escaped the billionaire, a sad smile lighting his face. Did the kid really think that there was still the possibility he didn't care for him?

"I didn't want to see you that way either kid, but you're okay now."

Except he really wasn't.

\----

They'd finally allowed him to go home. No patrol for a month, if he was going out Ned or MJ would have to tell May he was with him. Irritated, jittery, with doubts and more creeping up on him almost every second of the day.

_If I can't deal with the loss of control will I ever be a hero?_

_If I take it again maybe I can get over the loss of control._

_I need it again, please god I need it again._

And only then did he truly remember, he had it, hidden in the same place as his suit.

Just this once, no one would know. And even if they did, they couldn't argue. He was doing a good thing! He was making himself better. Tony wanted better. May deserved better.

He could be better.

Rolling up his sleeve and rising on his toes, he pushed up the latch in the ceiling and took out one of the syringes. Carefully pulling back his sleeve, staring at the soft trace of scaring across his wrist. They'd been continuing treatments on fully removing it for a while, it'd be gone soon enough. But his need now wouldn't be anytime soon.

\---

It'd left him lax, and so afraid that he'd smile if he could. At the scratching inside his head, the flutters of malled faces staring down at him now that his eyes were open.

The taunting face of the Vulture, the dark shadow of the gunman who stole Ben, Skip, even Flash taunting him. And even then with his heart screaming, neck prickling that he was in danger.

He felt as if he was shaking hands with an enemy turned friend. Trust and rough reassurance seeping into the handshake. Much like it had with Skip all those years ago but this time it was different. He knew this was genuine.

And as soon as it was over, and his fingers were no longer numb. He wished for it again, but Aunt May was calling him for dinner. He supposed in the middle of the night when no one would interrupt him, he could do it again.

\---

Eventually, this would happen, he'd run out and not know what to do. The fear he'd been so accustomed to was gone. He couldn't be stronger now, not without it.

But now he could go on patrol, he could get what he needed then. And if the men he turned in came in with a little fewer steroids and ketamine than they'd had before no one knew. Not even his suit, because he'd always just been that good.

And if during chemistry they caught him doing equations. No one seemed to notice it was the calculations for his next dosage. And if Ned brought up more than once he'd been even quieter than he normally was. And MJ questioned why his mood seemed the complete opposite of the days he hadn't induced his fear.

They never got a real answer.

\---

He hadn't expected this though, he'd completely forgotten while on patrol. He hadn't had a chance to get his fill. And he fell. Luckily his favorite Sorcerer had been there to catch him.

A quirked eyebrow and a quick, "let's get you inside." Was what met him, and he didn't argue because magically they were already there.

"Falling a lot lately?" The man asked conversationally. As they sat across from one another, the spider's fingers gripping into the arms of the chair.

"No," he stuttered, body trembling. His suit becoming sticky with his sweat. The tapping of his foot caught him off guard and the mystic man snapped his fingers and the mask was off.

The doctor was in, and he wasn't letting the boy leave until he knew what exactly was wrong. After he'd taken a pulse. And brushed off all the boy's resistance, taking notice of how weak the resistance really was.

He'd seen withdrawal before, and he'd never expect it from the teenager. Especially with Iron-Man as a mentor. He'd seen the worry and rage that accompanied the man when something harmful came to close to the boy. There had been times the boy had been in danger and hadn't even known. Mending the man's broken wrist after he'd broken in a stalkers face was a recent memory.

He'd even been there when Peter first saw it and worriedly asked what had happened. Sadly accepting Tony's answer that he'd blown himself backward in his lab and landed on it.

"Do you want to tell me what's been going on?" He asked, watching the boy's head drop.

"N'things been going on," Peter muttered under his breath, looking away from the man's stare. Trying desperately to stop the tears now flittering out of his eyes.

Strange stood, taking an awkward breath. Unsure of what he should really be doing as he placed a hand on the vigilante's shoulder.

Another splash of magic and they were in Stephens own room. A blanket wrapped around the boy's shoulder as he sat on the bed. Stephen sitting in his desk chair and holding his hands under his chair in a prayer position. Before motioning toward the child.

"When you'd been kidnapped last week, I was told you'd been drugged."

The statement was enough to make the boy cry, and nod. He should have known it was enough to let the boy slip, he didn't need any prompting.

"I don't know why I took them, but it was just I wasn't in control. And I felt afraid, and I didn't think I'd be able to do it again. So I did. Over and over and over again because I wanted to face my fears. I wanted to be better for Tony and May. I'm sorry, I just couldn't...I can't stop. If I do I won't get better. I just want to be brave."

Peter continued to fidget, sobbing and hugging himself tightly. Nails digging into his shoulders enough to worry the sorcerer that he'd break his bones.

His scarred hands covered in their yellow gloves. Reached out to pry the red-clad fingers off the boy's shoulders before he hurt himself. And luckily succeeded and Peter looked up at him miserably.

  
"You can be, by facing this. Now, what did you take?" The sorcerer demanded.

"It's....it's steroids and Ketamine," Peter whispered. Watching as the man nodded, already working on the best ways to help. Before ultimately deciding instead of going cold turkey, he'd simply weed the boy off of the drug.

"How long has it been since your last dosage?"

"Um around, maybe a day?"

And with another snap, the man before him was gone, and then he was back again. Syringe in hand, as he gently took the boy's wrist.

Peter's eyes bulging in surprise, mostly disbelief. Why was he giving him more drugs?

Sensing the question, Strange elaborated.

"We're going to weed you off of it, so we'll slightly push how long you can go without it. While simultaneously lowering the dosage. And over time you won't be relying on it at all. But we'll need to watch this carefully, keep a schedule. Make sure you don't relapse, but for now," He paused as he slid the needle in his arm. Pushing down the plunger, "I'll watch how to do with this first."

And he stayed as the boy's body went lax. Eyes wide with terror until several hours later he was able to blink on his own again.

Falling asleep in the warm covers. While the cloak of levitation ushered over to wrap around the child in comfort as he slept. Brushing his sweat-soaked hair with his lapels.

The sorcerer wandering off to back to the Parker residence. Searching until he found the boy's chemistry journal. Where else would he be able to sort these things? And proceeded to tear out the page, and return back to the sanctuary.

When he returned he was met with the sound of a muffled voice, the discarded mask spoke. Plucking up the mask, and putting it near his head. He heard the worried borderline panicking voice of Tony Stark.

"Peter?" The worried cry only getting louder.

"Hello Tony, everything's alright he's with me," He replied uncertainly. Wondering if he needed to actually wear the mask for the billionaire to hear.

The billionaire didn't seem all too relieved. Sure Peter may be in safe hand's, but Peter almost always only went to Doctor Strange when he got hurt. Or didn't want to bother him with something.

"Is he hurt?" The man of Iron asked after a long pause.

"He's alright, just needed a place to rest after tiring himself out."

The hero only responded with some muffled curses and an actual command. Though he understood. Peter had a gift in magically making everyone around him paternal. Tony Stark was no exception.

"Have him call when he wakes up."

"Certainly."

\---

He did call when he woke up. Strange could almost laugh at how one of the earth's mightiest heroes, Iron Man. Was berating the boy for not getting enough sleep. Surely he was one to talk.

But he knew Peter listened, slouched in on himself as he agreed to his mentor's demands. Never once bringing up his treatments yet to come.

\---

  
Peter was never late for when he needed his dosage. Always explaining how May, Ned, MJ, and Tony was getting suspicious. His mood swings and fidgeting had become too much to bear.

But those thoughts cut off as the syringe slid into his vein. And his fears crept in. As time progressed they'd gotten worse. And now he'd wished he'd never had to experience such fear ever again.

But his body still ached for it, but Strange knew the boy was getting better. And that's all that mattered.

\---

"Ya know you can talk to me?" May asked, giving a hopeful smile.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered softly, earning a hug.

"It's just you've been so distant, and not just about your Spider-Man debuts. You've been so irritated and not sleeping and I...."

"I'm sorry, I know I've been a lot to deal with lately. But I'm okay."

\---

Ned and MJ weren't any better.

"I'm your best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything!"

"I would say you're on your man period, but it wouldn't last this long," MJ spoke up, causing the teen to hide in his jacket.

"Who knows?" He scoffed sarcastically. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder and getting a head start on his next class.

\---

Tony was certainly worst. He was the most perceptive, worrisome. He hadn't taken his eyes off him for more than a minute at a time as if he knew something was wrong.

"Alright cut the crap kid, what's eating at you?" He asked, staring straight at him, arms crossed.

"It's nothing," he assured, continuing to help thread the wires on the circuit board.

"What'd I say about lying to me?" Stark asked.

"That I'm terrible at it?"

"You are but no, I told you not to do it," Tony deadpanned his stare backing Peter up.

Until a familiar purr of magic caught their ears. Peter had totally forgotten it was time for his next dosage!

"Oh sorry I didn't call, I'd forgot," Peter laughed shyly, earning an honest to god smile on the sorcerer's lips.

"If you can forget that means we're on the right track," He hummed, as Peter grabbed his things. Tony watching the two confused.

"Sorry to cut things short Mr. Stark, I forgot I had something to do today."

"And that is?" Tony asked, looking at the sorcerer for answers.

Peter blanched at that, also looking to the sorcerer for help.

"I won't be there for your next...appointment, I think it's time we let someone know so they can handle the next one."

"But..but I didn't want Tony to see that first time. I can't...I can't," Tony was pulling Peter into his arms to help stave off the panic attack.

"What are these appointments?" Tony asked quietly. Keeping his grip on Peter tight as he sobbed into his chest.

"I'm weeding him off Ketamine," The sorcerer stated. Peter could feel the man's body straighten in his grip.

He should have known, he knew Ketamine was addictive. He hadn't thought Peter would have....they'd given him so much it only made sense. And he hadn't caught it sooner.

Peter sputtered apologies, not expecting a soft one back in his hair. As Tony led him back with Strange, holding him tight and on his lap as Strange pressed the needle in. And the boy went lax in his arms, head lolling on his shoulders. Whimpering lightly in the man's arms for an hour and a half until he'd regained control of his limbs.

Strange showed the other hero where he'd have to make the injection. How much he needed and exactly when it would have to happen.  
  
Tony's free hand twined in Peter's sweaty nape, as he thanked the fellow hero. Setting out to leave, Peter quickly speaking up.

"Um, could I talk to Stephen? Alone." Tony reluctantly nodded, leaving the pair alone. As Stephen jumped confused, but reluctantly accepted the hug.

"Thank you for everything, I wouldn't have been able to get this far without you. And I know you probably-"

"You're welcome Peter, and if you ever feel like you need to be strong again. Come to me or Tony, okay?"

"Okay."

\---

He'd been clean for three months, and he couldn't be happier. MJ and Ned no longer questioned if he was alright because he was. He'd been speaking more openly with his aunt. And Mr. Stark seemed much happier and far less stressed when he looked at the child.

So much so they worked together better than before. Hugs were on the table. And to Tony's surprise, Peter relented in putting a tracker back in the suit. He could use it only when it was extremely important, and Peter would know if he'd activated it.

He'd wanted to relapse once or twice until he finally told Mr. Stark he'd wanted to be braver for him. And Tony shut those thoughts down faster than lightning. Before letting him try on the Iron-Man armor. And paying another visit to their favorite sorcerer.

The three genius' bonded over tea, before getting called to another fight. Which of course they won, Spider-man whooping the whole way.


End file.
